


Basalt

by geoffaree



Series: A Very Slytherin Harry [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geoffaree/pseuds/geoffaree
Summary: An interlude taking place at some point during the summer before Harry's fourth year. From the perspective of one Remus John Lupin as he tries his best to juggle watching over his hurting friend and spending time with his partner while he still has time and freedom to do so.





	Basalt

**Author's Note:**

> Very kindly beta read by [a_stands_for](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_stands_for/pseuds/a_stands_for)

Remus could smell it the second he turned his key in the lock and opened the door to the flat he shared with Sirius: the acrid stench of muggle tobacco underlying a miasma of dark misery and firewhiskey fumes. He was, unfortunately, not as surprised by the smell as he should be, had in fact been expecting something of the sort given that he'd dropped Sirius off at his appointment with the Mind Healer a few hours previous. His friend was always in a dark mood after sessions. Progress seemed to be slow going, but Remus could still see progress nonetheless. So he refused to let Sirius skip any appointments.

Setting his shopping on the counter of their small but serviceable kitchen, he followed his nose to the sitting room. The sight before him was also not so unexpected. Sirius was sprawled across the floor with his hair a wild tangle and gripping the neck of a suspiciously low bottle of high end firewhiskey. His other hand held the burning stub of a muggle cig that he wasn't paying very close attention to, given the scorch marks littering the plush scarlet rug he lay on.

The only unexpected part of the entire scene was the avalanche of colorful record sleeves that covered much of the rest of the floor and that had not been there that morning. There was music coming out of what looked more like an antique gramophone than a modern record player, that had also not been there when Remus had shuffled them out the door earlier.

“Alright there, Padfoot?” Remus asked softly. He could feel a frown tugging at his mouth but strived to keep any accusations out of his tone. Sirius was more likely to get belligerent if Remus pointed out his self-destructive behavior too overtly.

“Moony!” Sirius threw his hands up, cigarette flaring bright red at the sudden motion and the liquor bottle coming dangerously close to slopping all over the sprawled wizard. “Moony, Moony, Moons.”

The grin Sirius sent up at him was crooked and nearly bright enough to fool the average person into thinking it completely genuine. Remus was well versed in seeing past Sirius Black’s bravado, but chose not to comment on how the expression did not reach the other man's bloodshot gray eyes.

“What's all this then? How was your session with Healer Michaels?” Remus toed at the nearest of Sirius’ socked feet, hoping to urge the man into a more upright position. Sirius just scrunched up his face and shoved ineffectually back at him with the same foot.

“Oh, it went just bloody _swimmingly_. You know how much I love that Yank poking around in my head and talking about all the wonderful _emotions_ I’m so free to experience now.” He barked out a humorous laugh and tried to take a drag from his cigarette, but the stub had gone out. Sirius huffed and flicked it under the sofa. Remus would have to remember to sweep under there later. “Ol’ Thady suggested I try and acclimatise more with the modern world, catch up on what I've missed while playing snack for Dementors.”

Thaddeus Michaels was an American wizard that came highly recommended by St. Mungo’s. He had immigrated to the UK some years ago to be with his now ex-wife. The marriage hadn't lasted, but the man had found he quite liked the work and home he had built up this side of the pond and had decided to stay. Which was good news for Remus and Sirius, as the latter had run off three Mind Healers already before they’d even left Hogwarts at end of term. Thaddeus was made of sterner stuff, however, as he refused to take any of Sirius’ shit, and also seemed to be possessed of the rare ability to dig past the surface issues to deal with the heart of the problems that Sirius faced. That he could do so without Sirius blustering overmuch or leaving sessions unfinished was a boon Remus was not about to take for granted. Even if it had taken weeks of work to get to that point.

It did not matter that Sirius grumbled and scoffed and downed near whole bottles of firewhiskey that probably cost more than their entire month’s rent (well, that actually mattered quite a bit, but Remus was working on it.) Sirius had still gone out and attempted to follow the instructions set forth by the healer, even if in his own special Padfoot manner of doing things.

Progress was progress.

“Where did you find that thing?” Remus nodded at the gramophone, the music coming out of it loud enough to bother the neighbors if they hadn’t already set up muffling charms around the whole place due to Sirius’ frequent screaming night terrors (which were also slowly becoming less so as he healed.) “Did you nick it from Grimmauld Place?”

“Merlin’s balls, _no_.” Sirius kicked at him with his socked foot again, the shot going far wide of its mark. “I told you, I’m not going back to that wretch of a house. Not ever.”

“Alright, alright,” Remus soothed.

“Got it from a shop off Diagon,” Sirius explained, the words slurring slightly with his inebriated state. “Went into London proper for all this though.” He gestured expansively at the sea of colorful albums with the hand still holding firm to the bottle. “The muggles have been busy, Remy.”

“They certainly have, at that,” Remus agreed, unsure if he should be worried that Sirius was wandering about unattended, or relieved that he’d managed to do so at all. Then he tilted his head as the music finally registered with him past an overloud cacophony of noise into something he actually recognised. “Is that the _Violent Femmes_?”

Sirius gave him another lopsided grin and began belting out a slightly off-key accompaniment to Gordon Gano’s crooning desperation.

“ _I'm so lonely I just don't know what to do. And I'm so lonely, feel like I'm gonna crawl away and die. And I'm so lonely, feel like I'm gonna hack it apart... Hack hack hack hack it apart..._ ”

Sirius broke off in a fit of giggles, curling up around his bottle on the floor. As if he thought laughing it off might make Remus miss the terrible truth the lyrics had pulled from his friend. Remus wondered just how many times Sirius had listened to that particular song that afternoon.

“Oh, Padfoot,” he sighed, kneeling down next to the shaking man, who was no longer giggling but sobbing silently.

Remus rubbed at his back, the bones of his spine still far too prominent for his liking but thankfully not nearly as skeletal as they once had been.

“Shh, I’m here,” he murmured, heart aching at the sheer unfairness of it all. They had been so bright once, so whole. “I’ve got you, Pads.”

Sirius curled up further for a moment before twisting and burying his face in Remus’ side, abandoning the bottle to clutch at the soft material of the cable knit jumper the man had bought him despite his protests. Sirius was always doing that, buying him things, as if he thought Remus might abandon him otherwise. It was a cruel thought to have, one that he knew couldn’t hold a grain of truth, really. Sirius bought things because he felt like it was the only real thing he had left to do, to contribute in any meaningful way. It was only Remus’ own issues that twisted and soured the intentions.

“Moony,” Sirius hiccuped into his side, voice raspy with cigarette smoke and emotion. “ _Moony..._ ”

“Shh,” Remus soothed again, holding Sirius as best he could given their awkward positions on the floor. “It’s alright, Padfoot. Just let it out.”

It was a long while before Sirius calmed enough to pull away and sprawl back onto the rug with swollen eyes and cheeks flushed with too much emotion and drink. The spinning record had long gone to a jumpy rhythmic static as the needle ran over empty vinyl, leaving the both of them alone with only their thoughts. A dangerous prospect, and not one Remus relished dwelling on for long. He reached over to push the tangle of hair off of Sirius’ face, ending the motion with his hand cupped to the back of the man’s neck in a firm squeeze of solidarity.

“Come on, Padfoot. Let’s get you cleaned up. There’s some Sober-Up left in the cupboard, I think. How about I bring it to you in the bathroom, hmm?”

Sirius sniffed, or tried to, his nose far too clogged with snot to make much of the effort. “Yeah, yeah alright.”

Remus very carefully did not show how relieved he was at the lack of protest, a sure way to jumpstart Sirius’ chronic need to be contrary. He helped the man to his shaky feet, but Sirius shook him off when he tried to do more than that.

“I’m not an invalid, Moony. I can very well walk to the loo on my own.”

Remus doubted that, but let Sirius make his own wobbly, weaving way down the short hallway to the bathroom. Meanwhile, he pulled out his wand to vanish the remains of the liquor, knowing Sirius would just go out and buy more, but at least this way he’d have to put some effort into it. And he wouldn’t do it with Remus there to frown at him. Honestly, Sirius was doing much better than he had been. Today had obviously been a bad one, but those were getting fewer as he continued to recover. Days when he went to see the Mind Healer were never fun, but they were necessary.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Sober-Up that Severus had been kind enough to brew him, after a bit of persuasion, of course. Although Remus knew the man would have made the potion in any case, it was fun to pretend at convincing him. He brought the bottle down the hall, where Sirius had left the door to the bathroom open (he left most doors open nowadays) and was splashing cold water on his face.

“Here. Two swallows ought to be enough,” Remus said, holding out the potion as if they had not done this exact thing far too many times already.

“Cheers, Moony.” Sirius gulped the mottled green liquid with a grimace, but Remus could tell it started working almost at once as Sirius stopped swaying on his feet and his eyes cleared a bit of the red overwhelming them. “Shower, I think.”

“Probably a good idea,” Remus agreed, and left him to it.

As the sound of rushing water filled the apartment (Sirius had still neglected to close the door,) Remus stopped the spinning record in the sitting room at last, tucking it back into its sleeve. He’d had to summon the correct one from the pile around his feet as Sirius had not been careful in the least about where he tossed things. Sifting through the man’s eclectic acquisitions for something a little less fraught, Remus settled on some innocuous Prague rock to fill the void of silence. Merlin forbid Sirius ever got his hands on _Morrissey_.

With another flick of his wand, the piles of vinyl sorted themselves into neat stacks next to the gramophone. He’d have to get something to put them in later. For now, it was probably best to at least minimise the tripping hazard.

He returned to the kitchen then to put away the neglected shopping. Thankfully, nothing had been in dire need of keeping cool.

Sirius reappeared just as he was stowing away a last jar of apricot preserves, looking refreshed if a bit drippy and barefoot. He gave Remus a tentative smile that Remus readily returned.

“Better?”

“Yeah, Moony, thanks.”

Remus pulled the man into a brief but very firm hug. “You don’t need to thank me, Pads, you know that.”

“I know.”

They retreated to the sitting room, this time actually using the sofa for its intended purpose instead of laying all over the floor like the animals they only sometimes were.

“This is nice.” Sirius commented after a long bout of silence as they listen to the music (at a more reasonable volume.)

Remus nodded in agreement. As much as what he’d walked in to see might have been heartwrenching, the idea of catching Sirius up on some of the things he had missed was not a terrible one. Remus would just have to make sure he was there to supervise from now on.

“Oh, I got something else while I was out.” Sirius leaned over to start rummaging in a side table, emerging a moment later with wooden pipe carved in the shape of a roaring lion and a bag that Remus’ nose told him contained a somewhat potent amount of something that Sirius really should not be out buying after escaping prison. Acquittal or no.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Really, Padfoot?”

“Come on, Moony.” He dangled the little bag enticingly. “It’ll be fun, just like old times.”

“Those old times where you were convinced it was a good idea to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake? Or the old times where you were paranoid the second years were plotting to dye all your robes fuchsia?”

“To be fair, those little blighters were sneaky shits and James was all for going in the lake with me.”

“And look where that got you,” Remus chuckled, remembering their twin miserable scowls fondly, “leeches on your bums and a detention for scandalising the Giant Squid!”

Sirius barked out a laugh, a real one full of honest mirth. “McGonagall was so furious with us, I was sure she would have tanned both our hides if they weren’t already covered in those bloodsucking monstrosities.”

“They do grow quite large in that lake, for sure.”

Sirius chuckled again as he went about packing the little lion’s head pipe, but when he went to pat his pockets for his wand to light it, they came up empty.

“Left it in the bathroom.” He turned pleading gray eyes on Remus, although they were more mischievous than anything. “Be a doll, Moons?”

Rolling his own eyes again, Remus clicked his fingers, holding the bright blue flame to the pipe as Sirius took a too deep inhale, coughed loudly, and tried again with more success. He held the smoke in a long moment before exhaling in a puff of gray that was at least less acrid than the cigarette, if nothing else. He held the still smoldering lion out to Remus, who took it despite his earlier protests, clicking his fingers again.

He coughed as well, unused to such practices, but soldiered on in any case. He would be lying if he said the idea of a relaxing a bit did not sound good. They had both been wound so tightly for months and Sirius did not have nearly the opportunities to relieve such tensions as Remus had. He wondered vaguely what Severus might say if he caught them out at this, like a couple of errant schoolboys giggling behind Greenhouse Three as they passed badly rolled papers between themselves. He would probably raise an imperious eyebrow and look down his hooked nose at Remus, and Remus would want to kiss the frown off his face and bury himself in the other man’s embrace, rumple those fastidious robes...

Remus shook his head to clear away the inappropriate thoughts before they could progress further and derail his already muddled mind completely

There was a comfortable haze falling over him as he and Sirius passed the pipe back and forth, listening to the swelling music. He let his anxiety and worries drift away with every smoky exhale and felt himself finally, truly relaxing for the first time in a long time.

Sirius was giggling again and Remus joined in, despite having missed whatever joke had set him off. It was nice.

It was so hard to remember sometimes that things could be nice.

“Hey, Remy?” Sirius asked sometime after they’d finished a second bowl. He was sprawled against the corner of the sofa, his bare feet in Remus’ lap.

“Yeah?” Remus replied after a prolonged pause, as he was distracted by dustmotes drifting through a sunbeam from one of the large windows on the opposite wall.

“Do you think he hates me? Harry?” The words were said in a somewhat listless way, the rasp in his voice more pronounced as he stared up at the ceiling.

“No,” Remus said truthfully, gripping one of Sirius’ boney ankles and giving it a firm squeeze. “He doesn’t. I think Harry quite likes you, to be perfectly honest.”

“He doesn’t like it when I hug him.”

“From what I gather, he doesn’t like it when anyone apart from Severus and a very select few others touch him at all. You just need to give him time, Sirius. He’ll come around.”

Sirius huffed, digging the toes of his free foot into Remus’ side. “ _Snape_. I know that bastard hates me. Surprised he even lets me visit my godson at all.”

Remus tickled the foot in his grasp, making Sirius jerk and kick at him with no real intent. “Severus is protective of Harry. Even you must see that.”

“ _I_ should be the one protecting Harry.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the both of you doing so, Padfoot.”

Sirius huffed again, wriggling against the sofa until Remus was forced to relinquish his hold. Sirius ended up dangling upside down, his wavy hair pooling against the floor as his long legs hung over the back of the sofa. He narrowed his eyes up at Remus. They were bloodshot again, though that was hardly a surprise, and Remus suspected his own did not look much better.

“I don’t get what you see in that greasy git, Moony. You could do so much better.”

Remus feared his eyeballs might very well fall right out of his head if he were forced to roll them any more that afternoon.

“I love him, Sirius. You know that. And if you could just try and set aside some of the animosity between the two of you, I’m sure you would see he really isn’t so bad as you think.”

“He fucked my brother, you know.”

“Regulus?” Remus felt he must have been raising his eyebrows at that, but it was sort of hard to tell given how numb his face had gone about an hour into this ridiculous endeavour. “Hmm, yeah. I could see that happening. Regulus did hang around him at school quite often.”

It was Sirius’ turn to raise his eyebrows, though given his current position that could just be gravity at work.

“Did he? I never noticed. How did you notice?”

“I pay _attention_ , Padfoot.”

“Fuck off.” Sirius tried to push a foot into Remus’ face, but overbalanced and toppled off the sofa instead, landing in a heap of too long limbs and more giggles.

All in all it was not so terrible a way to spend the afternoon, in the end.

After Sirius retired to his room to nap, Remus spent a few minutes clearing away their mess, casting a few freshening charms on the flat and his own person. It was not an overly large space, but not small either. Three bedrooms, one each for Remus, Sirius, and Harry if Sirius ever convinced Severus to let the boy stay over. It was there, in any case. Sirius insisted on paying for everything, something that chafed at Remus, but he allowed it on the condition that Sirius listened to him when he was trying to help. The arrangement mostly worked out. Still, Remus expected to be looking for work again soon, when Sirius showed he was well enough to be left to his own devices for extended periods of time.

It was not much of a home yet, but it was getting there. It was already miles better than anything they could have made out of Grimmauld Place, as it did not come mired in decades of ill will.

Today had been a bit of a mixed bag, but Remus held out hope that things would continue to steadily improve.

Giving the place a final once over, he left a note on the kitchen counter, should Sirius awake to find him gone, before leaving to Apparate to Spinner’s End. His landing was only slightly off, causing Remus to stumble a step or two. The buzz had left him for the most part a while ago, leaving Remus more thirsty than anything. But if there was one thing Severus Snape could be relied upon to provide, it was copious amounts of tea.

A short walk down a dirty street brought him to the correct row house, although it was hardly difficult to mistake any other one on that road for it despite appearances otherwise, given the strength of the wards that washed over him as Remus stepped up to knock on the door.

Severus opened the door with a scowl that softened into a smirk as he realised who it was.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Severus murmured, leaning against the door jam. He was wearing a white muggle button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and Remus very much wished to kiss him.

“I missed you,” he said truthfully instead. It had been a few days since he'd last seen the man and that already felt far too long. Remus was not looking forward to when term started up again and he would be unable to simply drop by when the mood struck him.

That smirk turned ever so slightly playful and Severus pushed back from the jam, opening the door just far enough for Remus to squeeze himself through. “Well, you had best come in then. I would hate to cause you undue distress.”

Remus chuckled, perhaps louder than the teasing warranted; the earlier indulgence must still be affecting him more than he realised.

If, when he ducked under Severus’ arm to gain entrance, Remus cupped a hand over the man's hip, well, he wasn't expecting complaints.

Severus led the way through the cramped sitting room and into the more open kitchen area, where an array of different vegetables were in various states of dissemble upon the workspace.

“Tea?” Severus asked, even as he reached for mugs.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” More than, even, Remus thought as he became further aware of just how dry his mouth was. That Severus stood there in shirtsleeves and well tailored black trousers that fell to his bare feet was not helping the matter in the slightest. To distract himself, Remus took a seat at the scrubbed, round table and looked around curiously.

“Where’s Harry? Up in his room?”

“Off with that hooligan friend of his from down the lane,” Severus snorted, pouring steaming water into a chipped green mug with the faded logo of a glowering owl. “I expect he shall return in an hour or so.”

“Hooligan? You mean that cheery muggle boy with the...” Remus gestured at his own head vaguely. “Surely having a bit of an eccentric taste in hair color shouldn't label you a _hooligan_.”

“It's _blue_ ,” Severus sniffed, setting the mug down in front of Remus with an accentuating click. “Hooligan.”

Before Severus could pull away too far, Remus grabbed ahold of his wrist and pulled the man down to steal a kiss, pressing a smile against the scowl.

“I see you haven't forbidden Harry from seeing him, despite his questionable choice in hair.”

“Of course not,” Severus huffed. “Harry may spend time with whomever he so wishes. That does not detract from my point in the slightest.”

Remus hid his smile in the mug, releasing Severus to return to chopping his vegetables. The tea was refreshingly citrusy, soothing his parched throat immensely. Which was convenient, as watching Severus work over the vegetables with such quick, dexterous movements of his long fingered hands was once more exacerbating the issue.

“What are you making?” Remus asked after a long stretch of simply observing the man with what he feared was probably a wretchedly fond expression on his face.

“Ratatouille. You’ll stay for dinner?” It was framed as a question but the tone implied that Severus would hear no answer aside from an affirmative. Given the usual exacting quality of the food at Spinner’s End, it wasn’t such a hardship.

“Of course, though I must get back to London tonight.” He didn’t want to leave Sirius alone for too long, given what he’d come in to find that afternoon.

Remus tried to take another sip of tea only to find his mug empty. He frowned down at it, not remembering having finished it and not nearly as quenched as he wished. There was a reason he never really indulged in such things very often, the persistent dry mouth rarely seemed worth it in the end. Although, it had done much to set Sirius at an ease he hadn’t been able to achieve in what was likely close to a decade and a half, perhaps longer. It was better than the drink, at least.

Severus was suddenly beside him without Remus having noticed him moving, pouring more tea into his cup and giving him one of his searching looks. Remus blinked away his thoughts of Sirius and smiled once more in gratitude.

“Thank you, love.” He delighted in the color that touched the other man’s cheeks ever so slightly, leaning up to steal another kiss.

Severus permitted the theft for a long moment before retreating back to the stove. “You know,” he said in a wryly teasing tone, “if you wish to avoid unpleasant side-effects the next time Black feels the need to relive his delinquent school days, you should check the topmost back shelf downstairs. It won’t leave you feeling the need to drain an entire river or overindulge on sweets.” He quirked a dark eyebrow at Remus, who at least managed not to flush in embarrassment even as he sniffed at his jumper incriminatingly.

Then the words caught up to him and he pointed an accusing finger at the smirking man. “Wait a moment, why have you got any to begin with, let alone a specialised strain? Severus Snape, you sneaky stoner.”

Severus rolled his eyes, adding onion to a skillet. “I grow it for potions, obviously. I’ll have you know that THC is a widely versatile substance in many brews.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Plus you have to deal with far too many children three fourths of the year.”

Severus tilted his head in acknowledgement. “That too.”

Harry arrived not long after that and they all shared a nice meal. Remus really did have to go after, though, as much as he’d like to have stayed the night. Perhaps soon, on a day Sirius had not broken down sobbing.

Harry insisted on packing up a large portion of the ratatouille for Remus to take back to London, “For Sirius, he needs to eat more.”

That was not something Remus would argue, and took the offering with thanks.

“Say hello for me, maybe he can come next time, too. Or I could go to London and see your new place?”

“Sirius would be thrilled to have you over. Best ask your father first, though.”

Harry turned large, pleading green eyes on Severus, and Remus saw the moment he cracked under the pressure. “We shall see,” Severus grumbled as he began clearing away dishes and silverware.

Remus sent Harry a wink and the boy hid his own smirk behind the act of helping Severus clean up.

Yes, Remus would miss this after the summer ended. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d ever endured, not by a long shot, and the reward was worth whatever hardships came. 

Worth it in spades.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scene I've had planned since the beginning of the series. Since the main parts are only ever going to be from Harry or Snape's perspective, this get to be it's own little story. I hope you guys liked it, I'm excited to get started for real on the next big part soon.


End file.
